


Kiss in the Stars

by Duchesse



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gender Neutral, M/M, Pining, Reader Insert, Romance, butterfly kisses, reader interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/pseuds/Duchesse
Summary: His lips touched the butterfly, a gift to you.[Aaravos/Reader].





	Kiss in the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> still got a problem, what up.

As they perched atop of his fingers, he was reminded of just delicate life could be. Once, not long ago, they had been shielded inside cocoons, and now their glittering wings trembled as though in dance, a tiny starlit night all their own. Their soft flutters across his skin were fragile, gone in an instant if it were something he was compelled to do.

Instead of that, however, he only watched as the pair of butterflies with their dazzling wings and black bodies flapped erratically to the inverted dome of the tall ceiling and clung to the marble. His eyes followed them, and as the fireplace dimmed and the warmth of it coiled through his fingers, he thought they were a night sky he remembered, though it was still so very far away.

“What a pretty sight. Is that what this guy turns into?” your voice lured his eyes from the ceiling towards the mirror, catching sight of you lowering the caterpillar atop of your earlobe. “They’re so beautiful, I’ve never seen butterflies like that. There’s a region to the north of Katolis where there are rare butterflies with red wings. And apparently, the closer you get to the swamp lands, some glow in the dark! Dunno what they’re called, though.”

He steeped his fingers at his waist as he approached the mirror, gold eyes flitting from the caterpillar you brushed with a fingertip, to your contemplative scowl. As bizarre of a human you were, even he found many of your traits to be endearing.

“Fireflies. They are not butterflies.” He said, giving a slight tilt of the chin. “There exist creatures named archangel lunaris, or simply, moon moths. Truly ethereal creatures, I cannot recall the last time I saw one with my own eyes.”

A smile broadened across your lips at the mention, a twinkle in your eyes that he couldn’t quite coax his away from. “Yeah, yeah! Now that I think about it, Lord Viren showed me one back when I was still an apprentice. God, that was forever ago.”

His thumbs overlapped and tightened as he spoke, “Your bond with him is unique.”

The way your face scrunched seemed to imply otherwise. “Who? Viren? Honestly, I don’t know. He likes to flip-flop between me being his adopted kid, a student, a subject, and then his kid again, and then… nobody at all. He’s even weirder nowadays.”

He blinked. “Does it trouble you?”

You took your finger away from the caterpillar atop your ear, neck craning as you looked through the mirror towards the ceiling at his side where the butterflies continued to skitter about, wings quivering. It was curious to him that you chose to leave the topic alone, prompting a frown to mar his features.

It went unnoticed whilst you marveled at little creatures.

The words that fell from your tongue were tinged in excitement, your body nearly pressed to the glass for a better angle to see them. “Is it their wings that actually look like stars, or the way they move them?”

Oh, you were a wonder all your own. He had forgotten the inquisitiveness of humans, and the amusement that came with their companionship. And even then, as his dimming memory obscured the identities of those he once knew, he could not recall a time where he had been so thoroughly intrigued by another being.

These moments made him long the most for freedom, what he imagined he could do with it. He would have it soon enough, of that much he was certain. After a thousand years in imprisonment, a few more were nigh but a blink of an eye to him.

“Would you like to see them for yourself?” he asked, working a taut smile across his lips that stretched wide. “I can send them to you. And, I will tell you everything you wish to know.”

Your gaze flew to his face, eyebrows high, clearly enticed by the offer to get your hands on such a rarity. Being that you carefully documented magical creatures wherever applicable, as you explained to him at any rate, this was one step closer to what he so dearly desired.

Lips twitching and nails rapping against glass like a spring drizzle, you looked towards the closed door, seeming as though to expect it to fly open at any moment. “I don’t know. Viren might lose the rest of his marbles if you do, but, I really want to see one.”

With a quiet sigh through his nostrils, he replied, “That won’t be of any concern now. Come, I will give you want you want. You can take it with you, keep it close.”

“You won’t sell me out, will you?” 

His throat rumbled with low laugh. “Of course not.”

Encouraged by his words, your shoulders squared and your chin flicked a little higher. He recalled this persona of yours during your first few encounters; the one you had scrounged together as Viren’s assistant, as a figure of significance passed int he corridors. It brought him some delight, a flutter in his ribs that he could see the side of your that no one else could.

Everything you were, you showed to him.

He left the mirror wordlessly then, leaving you to lunge towards it with a harsh rattle and a shriek as you steadied it once again. You queried him at each stop he made around the study, the purpose of the objects he collected. With them displayed on the table before the mirror, you gave a mechanical nod, warily eyeing the stones and the chalice and the blade balanced atop it.

“Just so you know, I don’t make a point to do this ritualistic stuff.” You commented, flipping your fingers towards the incongruous array of items. “Ain’t my cup of tea, y’know?”

Again, he brought the tips of his fingers together before him, cloaking falling back across his arms. “Is that not dark magic in practice?”

You hiked your shoulders to your ears, nearly dislodging the caterpillar. “Beats me, bud. I study magical creatures, I record stuff. I don’t go around squishing squirrel guts between my fingers.”

“Is that so?” he mused, lifting the bejeweled blade from the chalice, flipping it so the glow of candlelight danced across it. “Will you have issues acquiring these items?”

You folded your arms snug to you, eyes floating from one to the next. “Mmm, I don’t think so. A fancy ceremonial knife might be a pain to find, though.”

“It doesn’t need to be fancy.” He twisted it before his face, admiring the glimmer of the jewels embedded in the gold hilt. “I just like the way it looks.”

Even with your reluctance lingering with you, he watched until your hurried strides carried you from the room. The speaker atop your ear grappled desperately during your frenetic scavenger hunt, his voice a guiding light to lead you to what you needed.

“What if Viren shows up?” you asked, fumbling with the stones clattering against your chest. “I am not about to tell him I went around stealing all this stuff to do some kind of ritual to look at a pretty butterfly.”

His words were dismissive, “You needn’t concern yourself with it.”

For a moment, you said nothing at all. The echo of your footfalls in the corridors, and the rush of air from your lungs in ragged breaths were enough to comfort him that the caterpillar still remained. “I heard you say that before.”

“Have you?” was all he bothered to supplement. 

The rest of the search was fruitful, in spite of your blunders during the return to the dungeon. As faithful as a lover waiting at shore, he moved nary an inch from the mirror the time in which you had gone, attention fixated at the door left just ajar. And once you before him, spilling the items across your table, swiping the debris and dust from your robes, he went to work on the next step.

It began much as he did with Viren; sewing the rune upon fabric to bond the worlds, and bear the crystals within the stones. You took your time to grind them, finding yourself rather captivated by the glimmer of the amethyst and emerald, tilting it against the weak flicker of light.

Surprisingly enough, the plumes of blue smoke that swirled up from the chalice from the crushed crystals didn’t dissuade you. He curled his hand around the base of the cup, gave a slight bow of the head, and drank it. You didn’t hesitate, as you had the stem tilted up by the time he lowered his own.

“Reminds me of that really weird punch that Callum had during his thirteenth birthday party.” You sputtered, coughing blue smoke as you smacked your lips, placing the chalice aside. “Suspicious, but probably won’t kill me.”

“Stay focused, we’ve nearly finished.” The knife was already at his palm, raised outward towards the mirror. “You’ll have what you want soon enough.”

There, you stopped. Even in the dimness of the room, the little light that swayed across your face betrayed your fear to him, your uncertainty of him and his intentions still. A part of him did not blame you, thought you wise- somewhat, but perhaps the weaker part of him stung at the thought; a flinch at the corner of his lips, and a squint in his eyes. 

“Are you afraid?” he asked, curiously.

By that point, you held the knife in your hand, weighing it in your palm as though it had power to tip the balance of justice itself. “I’m afraid of many things, Aaravos. Many, many, many things- of course I am.”

He withdrew his arm at the slightest from your words, though kept the metal firm against his flesh. “Are you afraid of me?”

That question made you uncomfortable, he saw your silhouette shift, and your lips pull tight. Everything about you told him so, this invisible wall between you ever insurmountable. 

It was his thought, at least, until you jerked your head upright, and jostled the table with your thighs as you stepped closer to it. His eyes widened as the blade slipped through your hand, veiling the tarnished bottom of the inside of the cauldron with red. It ran beautifully, the conviction flickering in your eyes was beautiful.

So, with a composure much unlike you, you said, “Don’t give me a reason to be afraid, Aaravos.”

A lopsided smile returned. “As you wish.”

The cauldrons were unchanged even once he discarded the knife, hoisting the opposite hand towards the ceiling where one of the butterflies landed. So breathtakingly it glittered, eagerly wandering from the front to the back of his hand, and then to the tip of his finger.

He studied it closely, everything from the twitch of its antennae, the quickness of its black legs, and the excitable jitter of its wings that brushed against his lips before he lowered it into the cauldron emitting a red glow.

You let out a boisterous laugh as it fluttered out on your side, swooping around you as though you gauge just what you were. When it finally came down to rest in your hand, you held it inches from your face- so close its wings nearly skimmed your nose.

“Gracious me, Aaravos. What a stunning creature.” You whispered breathlessly, rotating your hand to see it from different sides. 

“It is my gift to you.” He invited the other butterfly to sit on his fingers. “It will stay with you. _I_ will stay with you.”


End file.
